You Were Right
by punkfunkdisco
Summary: How did Pacey react when Doug finally came out? Written for a comment fic prompt by scripps on LJ.  Rated T for language. Also briefly features Gretchen.


Saturday morning cartoons, there was not a thing in the world that could beat them. Pacey lay on his couch chuckling to himself and eating Lucky Charms. The phone ringing made him jump and he spilled cereal on the carpet.

"Pacey, have you spoken to Doug yet?" Gretchen's voice was an unsettling mixture of excited and unsure. Pacey rubbed his eye with his fist.

"Gretchen, the sun has barely arisen on this bold new day. I haven't even gone for a piss yet, let alone spoken to Doug. Why would I have talked to him anyway? Oh no, is it his birthday? Did I forget his birthday? Well, it doesn't matter, it's not like he cares about mine – in fact, he goes out of his way to make sure I have miserable birthdays, so if I _have_ forgotten his then it would only serve as a cold dish of well-deserved revenge."

"Have you finished? You're surprisingly chatty for ten in the morning."

"Yup, I'm finished." He rubbed his jaw, wondering if he could get away without shaving today.

"Just talk to him, OK? I think he could use your support right now."

"Me? _My_ support? What situation could possibly be so bad that..." The phone went dead. "Oh. Bye Gretchen, it was nice talking to you." He threw the phone back on the hook and stared at it for a few seconds, contemplating whether he could remember Doug's number from memory or if he would have to look for the little brown book in which Joey had insisted he keep all important, and not-so-important, phone numbers. It was alphabetised and everything. So very efficient and Potteresque. Memory would be unreliable at this point in the weekend so now all he had to do was try and remember where said little brown book was kept. Closet under the telephone? Too obvious. Coffee table shelf? Full of TV magazines. Bathroom closet? Bingo!

He dialled the number, feeling slightly nervous about the situation. It was always awkward calling Doug anyway; they never usually had much to talk about, but still felt the sibling responsibility to keep in touch. Pacey went to shove a hand in his pocket before realising he was still only wearing his underwear. He suddenly felt oddly vulnerable.

"Hello?" Doug's weirdly fragile voice came through the receiver.

"Doug! Hey, it's Pacey. How you doing?"

"Oh. Pacey. Hey." He sounded as though he hadn't had much sleep. In fact, he sounded a broken man.

"Don't sound too excited now, Doug. You do realise this is a rare moment we're having. A moment where _I_ am calling _you_."

"I'm aware of the extraordinary situation here. What do you want, Pace, it's only just gone ten?"

"Gretchen said I had to call you. So here I am. Calling you."

"Oh."

"Oh? What does 'oh' mean?"

"It means that instead of me choosing my own time and place to inform you of something that's going to be difficult and uncomfortable for me to tell you, thanks to our misguided sister I'm having to do it now. Over the phone. When I've barely woken from a really bad night's sleep."

"What? I'm not understanding this, Dougie, you're gonna have to enlighten me."

There was a pause as Doug sighed, the weight of the world rushing out with his breath. "You were right."

Pacey frowned. "I was? When was I right, because I need to record it in my little book of "Times I Was Right" that I show to people who think I'm always wrong."

"This is no time for jokes, Pacey."

"Doug, what is wrong; just tell me."

The line was quiet for a few seconds as Doug breathed deeply before responding. "I'm gay, Pace. Y'know. All those jibes you made about my sexuality? You were right. I'm gay." Pacey could almost sense Doug's shrug of the shoulders, it would try to imply he didn't care, but fail miserably. "I came out to mom and dad last night and I spoke to Gretchen just after. I was waiting to tell you because... well, because it's almost harder for me to admit that you were right than it is for me to admit that I'm attracted to men."

Pacey smiled and shook his head, glad that Doug couldn't see him because, shamefully, his first reaction was joy at being right. He sat down gently on the closet that held the telephone, hearing the creak but knowing it could take his weight.

"Pace, c'mon, say something."

"You pulled a gun on me!" he replied, suddenly remembering and jumping off the closet. Doug sighed. "That time with Tamara Jacobs, you aimed a gun at my face and made me tell her you weren't!"

"And there he is," Doug announced. "My little brother. A person who inexplicably manages to turn every situation into one about himself."

"No, that's not what I'm doing here."

"Yes, you are, but this is not about you, Pace. This is about me. This is about how my life is going to blow apart and fall to pieces and be completely ruined."

"What? What are you talking about, Doug, no it's not. So you're gay, it's not a big deal these days." He shrugged to emphasise his point, even though Doug couldn't see him.

"Try telling that to dad. Try telling it to the rest of the officers at work."

Pacey paused while he chewed over Doug's situation. His big toe played with the corner of the closet anxiously as he realised he'd never really thought about what it would be like for Doug if he _were_ gay. It was all right for him to make jibes and treat it so casually, but for Doug it was real and it was happening. He tried to think back to what had happened when Jack came out. Jack had faced a lot of discrimination and it had forced him to be a stronger person, more sure of who he was and more confident in his sexuality. Would telling the world do the same for Doug, Pacey wondered.

"You don't have to tell anyone, Doug," Pacey eventually replied, swallowing hard.

"What?"

"I mean, I think you should be proud of who you are and I'm proud to be your brother – I'll gladly take on anyone that has a problem with you - but if you're not ready to tell the rest of the world, you don't have to. There's no law saying that you have to announce your private business to the rest of society. Quite frankly it's none of their business."

Doug was silent for a few moments before replying. "Maybe you're right," he said slowly.

"Another one for my little book," Pacey grinned.

"No one has to know!" Doug said a little louder, a little more confidently. "I mean, you're right, it's no one's business but my own."

"You do realise, though," Pacey said seriously as he picked paint off the wall. "That not telling anyone greatly reduces the chances of you _being_ with anyone."

"That's not something I'm ready to think about, Pace."

"It'll be a pretty lonely existence, are you sure you want that?"

"It's not forever. I need to come to terms with this myself before I can deal with anyone else coming to terms with it."

"OK, but... Doug?"

"Yes, Pacey?"

"All those times I made jokes, all those times I teased you? I was only trying to give you a chance. I only wanted you to think about it and know that I was there if you wanted to open up to anyone. You're my brother, man; I want you to be happy."

Doug shook his head and thought about all the times he'd reacted to his little brother's teasing, all the times he'd wished Pacey would just grow up. Now that he had, Doug realised that Pacey had always been wise beyond his years, even if it was in the most juvenile of ways.


End file.
